"You bastard!" I rubbed my freshly bandaged wrists as I plopped down on the soft bed. It was covered in swaths of blues and purples, calling my name, no, it was chanting my name, casting a spell so I could get lost in its feathery softness. All I wanted to do was sleep. I hadn't gotten much the night before with being tied up and everything, literally.
It was actually that situation that led me to the problem at hand; a particularly frustrating man who could battle the likes of my boss in a competition for annoyingness and sexism. I scoffed and rolled me eyes as he started to pace the length of the small room we were in.
"There's no other disguise that will fit your..." He pursed his lips as he scanned my figure, "appearence."
I rolled my eyes again. He was talking about my tanned complexion, a natural gift from my mother. I never sunburned and I sported a nice golden color year round, but apparently here, wherever here was, it was not the beauty standard. My matching midnight hair and brown eyes made me seem too 'exotic.' At least that's how this snobbish man had worded it, saying that the ton would never believe that I was a 'proper lady,' whatever that means.
Just sounded like bullshit racism to me. I was proud of my Hispanic roots and I wouldn't be made to feel like it was something to be ashamed of. My dark complexion, small stature, and wide hips ware all features that add to who I am as a person.
"No," I shook my head, "I will not wear a servant's uniform." I had two degrees, and neither of them were in cooking or cleaning. I didn't put in all that hard work to do housework. In fact, I put in the work so I wouldn't be trapped as a housewife someday, taking care of children that I'm not even sure I would want.
I respected those woman because I know the job is hard, but I didn't want it for myself. No, that lifestyle just wasn't for me.
"Why are you so difficult?" He stopped his pacing for a second to run his hand through his hair.
I crossed my arms and shook my head again, "I'm not difficult."
"Yes you are. You are by far the most difficult woman I have ever known and I happen to have three sisters." He sighed as he plopped down into a chair. It was actually my chair, the one that still sported my blood from where the ropes cut into the skin on my wrists. Awe, memories.
"Pfft, please, don't be so over dramatic." I rolled back onto the bed, pulling some of the sheets with me until I was wrapped like a little enchilada. I buried my head in the softness. This was exactly what I needed, and not any of the nonsense that he was spewing.
"It is not dramatic when I am being truthful." I could imagine him scowling at me with those green-grass eyes, but my own eyes were already closed.
"Whatever." I snuggled deeper into the bed. He could say whatever he wanted, but I was right where I wanted to be, in bed, drifting off to sleep, not listening to him at all.
"Are you even listening to me?" I felt something move near my feet.
I hummed. Of course I wasn't listening to him, I was in the space between awake and sleep. And there was no place for there.
Coldness slapped against my ankles as the covers were brutally torn from my body. "Hey!" I sat up and cracked my eyes open to see him standing at the end of the bed, the covers clutched in his left hand and a stern expression on his face.
"Put these on. You've been in this room for too long. I'm engaged and if someone were to find you here this would be cause for scandal." He set a stack of clothes, which I'm assuming is the servant's uniform, on the bed.
"Hmm," I puffed my cheeks out and tapped my chin, "yeah, I don't think so." I reached out and quickly snatched the covers from his hand, rolled over, and created another cocoon of warmth.
YOU ARE READING
A Captive of TimeHumor
Blue Doe is an independent, modern day women. She doesn't take no for an answer and gives the world the middle finger whenever it gets in her way. So, what happens when this self-made woman is thrown through time to a period where men hold all the c...